One Pink Tutu
by DarthPirate
Summary: Neo is on a mission to find out what Smith is up to when he joins an act at a night club inside the Matrix, but it turns out to be more than even The One can handle. Don't be fooled by the title, this isn't a girl scout story.
1. ONE

WARNINGS

TITLE: One Pink Tutu

CHAPTER: Chapter One - "At Last The Call Came"

AUTHOR: DarthPirate and Aragia

BETA: Maniacs Edge

RATING: R-13 (content is not appropriate for children due to language, violence, and sexuality)

DISCLAIMERS: We do not own the characters, Warner Brothers and the Wachowski brothers do. We own this story and these events. This story was written purely for entertainment and not as a means to acquire money. If you are offended by slash and/or homosexuality simply do not read it. Any resemblance whatsoever to real persons, places or events is unintentional.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This all came from a strange dream of DarthPirate's, and she could not forget it, so we decided to turn it into something. The result was this fanfiction. It is our first, so anything we did wrong, excuse us please.

Neo was standing in the phone booth on 44th and Dame Street, waiting on the call from Link. He looked over the rim of his sunglasses and searched the street corner. No sign of the Agents, he'd lost them back on 39th, but they could show up again any second. He started to worry, not for himself, but for the Nebuchadnezzar, the crew, for her. No, it couldn't be sentinels; he wouldn't still be here if they had invaded. And still... he had images of their hellish metal tentacles wrapping around her neck and going up into her, twisting her in pain and confusion like a sick rapist's bong. Images, that's all they were, but he was having a lot of these lately.  
At last the call came. Actually it was a call, on his cell. "Yeah?" he answered it, trying to sound like he wasn't the least bit jumpy when the flat tone pulsed into his ears just moments before. "We've had a change in plans." It was Link. "God damn it Link..." He let out a long sigh. "Nice talking to you too, Neo, but don't blame me. It was Morpheus that ordered this. See there's been a—" Neo cut him off abruptly. "No. No no no... it's just, you took me by surprise." He laughed harshly and it cut the air like snowflakes on a frozen face. "Wrong phone ringing and all. So what's going on?" He could think of a hundred more questions to ask, but the most important one of all came to mind and he quieted his voice. "How is Trinity?" Just saying her name made him quiver down to the still yet untapped depths of his manhood.  
Silence. "Link?" Still no answer. Wait, there was something. Grunting? "Is everything ok? Operator?" He pressed the zero button on the phone and held it down, hoping the buzz would get him a response. It worked, but the voice was not who he expected. "It's alright Neo; Link will give you the address just as soon as he gets over his **laughing fit**!" She started to laugh as well. It was a pleasant harmony in his ear, and he knew why so many were jealous. It was rare, that kind of love, when hearing the other person's voice felt like a good masturbation. Good thing the Matrix didn't reveal his innermost, X-rated images.  
Link disturbed his train of thoughts with a loud cough. "So, ready for another mission?" There was still a hint of giggle in his voice, but Neo tried to ignore it. "Yeah, if Morpheus thinks it's important enough to leave me hanging with Agents on my ass I'll—hold on one sec!" Someone was knocking on the door, no two someones.


	2. TWO

WARNINGS

TITLE: One Pink Tutu

CHAPTER: Chapter Two - "Just Bolt The Door"

AUTHOR: DarthPirate and Aragia

BETA: Maniacs Edge

RATING: R-13 (content is not appropriate for children due to language, violence, and sexuality)

DISCLAIMERS: Has not changed since last time. We do not own the characters, Warner Brothers and the Wachowski brothers do. We own this story and these events. This story was written purely for entertainment and not as a means to acquire money. Any resemblance whatsoever to real persons, places or events is unintentional.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So we keep going, it shall never end! (We are very sarcastic persons, just so you know).

One was an average city shopper with too much to carry: a middle-aged lady with two large shopping bags from a department store, a brown paper grocery bag filled with household necessities, a small clear bag containing some movies and a phone cord from the electronics store, and a heap of clothes wrapped up in a plastic cover and tied at the bottom so the ends wouldn't drag. Nothing uncommon about this. But the other person . . . he was an Agent. Though not one of the once that had been chasing Neo before, this one was Smith. With one hand he waved at Neo, and he stuck the other one into the woman's bosom. If he didn't know better, Neo would've thought the man was molesting her. But this was Smith, who cared nothing of humans; and alas, Neo had seen this all too many times before. The silver liquid-like glaze started to cover her, and it reminded him of long ago when the mirror spread up his arm and coated him in the same manner. But that was freedom, this was capture.  
He closed his eyes for only a second, and when he opened them again two Smiths stood outside the phone booth, straightening their ties and flashing oily grins. One reached to open the door, but before he could do so Neo came back to his senses and kicked it open, it hit the other in the face. He took off at a run before they could react, and fumbled for his phone in his pocket. "Link? Trin? Anyone?" No answer, no dial tone. He clicked it shut and then opened it again. "I need a little help here!" he yelled into it. "Damn jumpy, are you Neo?" Link had never had to outrun agents, and while it was nerve-racking to see them on the monitor, the safety of the ship around you took away part of the effect of being chased down a street by them. "Turn right, down that street. Run! Now go straight down the alley. The door on the left. No your other left!!! Don't stop, Neo! Keep going up those stairs. Now go into door 7. Shut it, turn the bolt."  
Now that was an odd command. Doors had never kept Agents out before. If they wanted in bad enough, they would either kick it open or transport in. So he did what any other inquisitive person would: he asked. Something as simple as asking why the hell he was locking the door helped to calm him down. Ah the ways the mind worked...he would think about that someday when he had more time. For now, someone was telling him something important, and it wasn't Link.


	3. THREE

WARNINGS

TITLE: One Pink Tutu

CHAPTER: Chapter Three - "This Pink Flamingo Place"

AUTHOR: DarthPirate and Aragia

BETA: Maniacs Edge

RATING: R-13 (content is not appropriate for children due to language, violence, and sexuality)

DISCLAIMERS: The usual... we do not own the characters, Warner Brothers and the Wachowski brothers do. We own this story and these events. This story was written purely for entertainment and not as a means to acquire money. Any resemblance whatsoever to real persons, places or events is unintentional.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Anyone who has seen 'The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert' will find the title of what group is performing this week amusing. Those who have not -- see it.

It was Morpheus. This, again, was unusual. Though none of the crew knew why, he usually kept a good distance from the monitors. He would only say that the code made his head spin, but some of them secretly suspected it was a bad experience before their time, and the rest of them were afraid to speculate about him. Either way, there Morpheus was now, talking to Neo, and Neo had better listen when Morpheus spoke.  
"We need you to go down to the theater on 46th street. There has been a considerable increase in Agent activity there, and it is crucial you discover what they are planning." That was typical Morpheus, being so serious. Yes, Neo did ponder many things about him, but the one question that came to mind the most was if he ever laughed. Not that there was much to laugh at, but the point was he never seemed to be happy. Maybe it was Niobe...maybe he was still emotional about what Cypher did...maybe the realization the war might not ever end disturbed him... Oh what did it matter? At least it gave him something to think about on those sleepless nights Trinity didn't sneak into his bed, even if he never would know the answer. He could always ask Morpheus himself, but when it came down to that he would rather have his plugs skewered out with flaming screwdrivers.  
"Are you up to this Neo?" He would have to think about that for a minute. Why did they care what Agents were doing at a theater? No, it wasn't up to him to decide that. His job was to fight, and that didn't require much thinking. So he should get back to that right now and just say yes. If he could simply make his mouth work, that is. He felt as though someone had sealed it again. He mumbled a few times, and then finally the words came out. "Yeah. Yeah I'll handle it. Shouldn't take long, and that's not too far away."  
He felt better already. Putting his life on the line again would be just dandy. He always got away, he was Neo, The One, Superman, he was invincible! At least if he pretended it was good for his ego. Link came back on the line and told him it was clear, he unbolted the door and started back the way he came.  
When he reached the corner where the phone booth was he turned the corner and followed Dame down to 46th and looked up and down the block for the theater. Finally he laid eyes on it, but it wasn't much to gape at. Rusty letters across the top spelled out "**F L A M I N G O**". The doors were at one time bright pink, but had now faded to the color of Pepto Bismol vomited back up. Or at least what he thought Pepto Bismol looked like. Maybe that wasn't what it really looked like. Maybe the machines got it wrong. Maybe there wasn't even any such thing. Mouse had taught him to think like that, and it made him miss the little squeaker. Annoying as he was, he lightened the mood and he was good to have around.  
He surveyed the rest of the building, but there wasn't much else to see. It was falling apart, even the ad "THIS WEEK: Priscilla & the Pussy Cats in Pink" that had just been hung. Nobody seemed to be around, so he headed to the entrance, checked one more time, and went through the doors like a queen making her royal arrival. And on the other side of the door, he saw there _was_ a queen.


	4. FOUR

WARNINGS

TITLE: One Pink Tutu

CHAPTER: Chapter Four - "Watch That Face"

AUTHOR: DarthPirate and Aragia

BETA: Maniacs Edge

RATING: R-13 (content is not appropriate for children due to language, violence, and sexuality)

DISCLAIMERS: We do not own the characters, Warner Brothers and the Wachowski brothers do. We own this story and these events. This story was written purely for entertainment and not as a means to acquire money. If you are offended by the mention of homosexuality just don't read it. Any resemblance whatsoever to real persons, places or events is unintentional.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Somebody asked recently what time this story takes place. I had never really thought of that, but I guess it should be after Matrix 1, just before the events in the Animatrix are supposed to take place.

A drag queen that is. Neo thought it would be better to ignore her and kept walking by, but couldn't resist looking out of the corner of his glasses. She wouldn't see his stare through the shades, but even if she did she probably wouldn't mind. Anyone that wore that outfit, that much make-up, and whew! that much perfume, wanted to be noticed.  
She donned a hot pink beaded corset that barely held her fake jugs in, a skirt that was almost too short in the front but then frilled out in the back and had a train that stretched out like forty boxcars as well as a caboose and then some. The skirt had enough pink lace to tie every woman in the city to her bed and last through a few good orgasms. But that was not the end of the outfit, oh no. She wore pink boots that zipped up to her calves and pink fishnet tights that held her legs together inside them. No effort was made to conceal the fact that she was a he, and his engine stood out from beneath the glitter and beads like fireworks in the night sky. The last piece of the getup was a pink feathered mask, to conceal all of the eye area except long pink lashes and irises tainted by contacts, no other color than pink. All in all, the drag queen looked as though she really did belong in the building: like an aging flamingo who took too many steroids and left that delicate machinery in the penis enlarging chamber so long it turned a funny color as well and wrinkled like a prune.  
Neo continued on, trying with all his might to banish the image of the drag queen. Of course, the harder he tried, the more he thought about it. The face drifted back into mind, cheeks rosy like a blushing virgin getting a first kiss, eyes intent and deep beyond the plastic. The face... the face. The fa—the face!!! That was it! Somewhere in his head Neo heard a voice say "Look beyond the flesh and see your enemy." He pictured the face again, and he had it. Smith. When he turned back to look the person was gone, and he thought about going right back out to look for him or her (after all, how hard could it be to spot that much pink?) but then he thought again: why on earth would Smith be dressed like that? No sir e, not Smith, not in a dress. He put it all behind him and marched on, trying to regain what dignity he had lost in goggling a she-male.


	5. FIVE

WARNINGS

TITLE: One Pink Tutu

CHAPTER: Chapter Five - "Dangerous Smells"

AUTHOR: DarthPirate and Aragia

BETA: Maniacs Edge

RATING: R-13 (content is not appropriate for children due to language, violence, and sexuality)

DISCLAIMERS: It's getting old. We do not own the characters, Warner Brothers and the Wachowski brothers do. We own this story and these events. This story was written purely for entertainment and not as a means to acquire money. Any resemblance whatsoever to real persons, places or events is unintentional.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Also asked where this theater is supposed to be. I'm no expert on geography, and none of this is real, so... imagine what you want. In my opinion, that lets you be more part of the story anyway.

The theater wasn't large. Once you got to the end of the hallway it branched off. On a busy night the worn velvet ropes would direct pushing crowds straight ahead and through two more Pepto Bismol doors to seats of some kind. The performers would be sent to the right and through a single lime green door to the dressing rooms and backstage. The minority would be drawn to twin black doors on either side of the hall. Each had an icon: one a plain human shape that could be a male, and the other a woman's form. Well, it couldn't be a woman. The figure had no intriguing curves that gave it feminine expression only a talented artist could capture well enough to make another man want to capture it again, in different ways.  
Neo was not in the main human body, so he could choose for himself which way to go. He followed the outdated shag carpet that looked like it needed a lawn mower to hit it before a vacuum could make one pass across and live to tell the tale to its comrades in the appliance closet. The yellow tweed road led him to the lime door. He wrapped his hand in a corner of his trench coat and used it as a glove to open the door. It creaked like the joints of a rest home resident, and stuck halfway. He edged through it and an odd smell hit his nostrils. It was hard to fathom, something like margaritas, moth balls and burnt silicone. Maybe some corn dogs, coffee and Chanel No. 5; or was that athlete's foot powder?  
No worries, he assured himself. Smells don't carry guns, only the skill of making one with a weak stomach puke. He passed a door not worth going in, just the boss's office. Then another, where some of the fragrances intensified, and the carpet started to squish. It was a lunch and laundry room that had had a recent explosion: microwave parts littered the floor, red chunks hung ominously from the ceiling and threatened to fall into one's mouth like his enemy's guts choking him even in death. The walls were a glorious tale of disasters the room had weathered poorly.  
All of this seemed typical of a place called the Flamingo, but it looked like the only kind of agents ever in this building were just trying to help failed actors find a career. Neo stayed alert as he walked down the hall, turned a corner and glanced out a window. Some punks had painted "Git gone hoz!" in graffiti right where all passersby could see it. They could've at least spelled everything right... This furthered Neo's concern he was on a wild goose chase. The only thing keeping him moving was the drag queen, if he hadn't imagined that.


	6. SIX

WARNINGS

TITLE: One Pink Tutu

CHAPTER: Chapter Six - "Follow The Yellow Tweed Road"

AUTHOR: DarthPirate and Aragia

BETA: Maniacs Edge

RATING: R-13 (content is not appropriate for children due to language, violence, and sexuality)

DISCLAIMERS: We do not own the characters, Warner Brothers and the Wachowski brothers do. We own this story and these events. This story was written purely for entertainment and not as a means to acquire money. Any resemblance whatsoever to real persons, places or events is unintentional. If it sucks, don't sue us.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Just shut the door! Don't let them in!" (I love 'The Village', and yes Mr. Shyamalan is getting free publicity via my fanfic.)

After what seemed like a thousand ages of trotting down the yellow path, Neo found himself in front of a plain oak door, against a plain white wall. The carpet faded off into normal grey, stained with what must've been a million pattering feet crossing it. This place, part of the same disgusting yellow carpeted hallway with the fecal matter brown walls, did not seem at all Flamingo-ish. He took another look at the door. There was a peephole and a brass knocker, in the shape of, ah, melons. A moment of consideration, and Neo raised the heavy knocker and pounded it three times. The door shook ominously, but no sign of anyone behind it. Though the chambers of his heart held enough fear of what could be to constrict him like a large boa, he still liked the missions, the excitement, the heroism, the adrenaline pumping through and flushing out the dread. And this mission was becoming so dull he could wait not a moment longer for the door to open. He opened it himself.


	7. SEVEN

WARNINGS

TITLE: One Pink Tutu

CHAPTER: Chapter Seven - "Behind The Door"

AUTHOR: DarthPirate

BETA: Maniacs Edge

RATING: R-13 (content is not appropriate for children due to language, violence, and sexuality)

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Neo, if I did I'd have him handcuffed to a bed right now and I wouldn't be writing fanfics. I also do not own anything to do with the Matrix other than the videos and my Smith posters, all the rest belongs to all the W brothers. Yoda Yoda ya ( again I don't own Yoda, look to Lucius...I mean Lucas).

AUTHOR'S NOTE: My first time writing without Aragia, sorry if it's horrid.

It was quite a good thing that Neo wore sunglasses, otherwise he would've been blinded. When the door opened outwards with enough force to knock the wind out of a fully-grown gorilla, brilliant sunlight streamed in like it was from heaven itself. He blinked and tried to make out any shapes in the room, but despite the amount of radiance his shades deterred, they didn't entirely save him from pain to the retinas. He took the glasses off and pressed his fists into his closed eyes, but even through the lids he could still see the red glow of incredibly bright sunlight. After some time he managed to open them again, and when his pupils had adjusted he looked around the room. The throbbing globes came to a rest on the form of a very tall and muscular person with long, but dirty and matted, blonde hair. It seemed like this stranger was wearing a kind of old-fashioned metal armor, but Neo thought he must be wrong, because that was a little insane.  
The dark form turned around, and blinding light came from behind him and hit Neo like a bowling ball in the stomach. His head ached like it would split down the middle. Neo shielded his eyes as though from a blow. The person took a step forward, which luckily blocked what Neo could now barely see was an open window.  
"Who the hell are you?" he asked the strange stranger. No answer, the other only went back to fiddling with something just below the window. Neo took a step forward, interested in what the person was doing, but a grunt suggested he should come no further unless he wished to be twisted into a pretzel. Finally a real voice spoke, and revealed this was a man. "What do you want, is the better question." Neo was taken aback, and it was a moment before he could answer that he was simply lost. "Well I cannot help you, so you would stand a fairer chance heading the other way."  
If this was the way he'd be treated, Neo _would _be better off leaving. He backed up, trying to get out of there and close the door without taking his eyes off the man who very well might kill him unfairly. But funny thing was, the door had already shut, and there was no longer a handle.


End file.
